


In Sickness and in Health

by msobsessivecompulsive



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msobsessivecompulsive/pseuds/msobsessivecompulsive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mrs. Hughes is upset, Carson attempts to console her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness and in Health

"I’m busy!" She snapped as Carson knocked and entered her office. She was furiously folding the linens.

"Mrs. Hughes, this is a job for the housemaids," Carson replied, exasperated.

"Well I want to do it," she retorted, the edge still in her voice. Something was wrong. Carson could tell by her movements. Her hands were shaking slightly and she wasn’t looking at him.

"Her Ladyship needs to speak with you about…"

"Just leave me alone!" She shrieked, throwing the pile of linens she had in her hands back onto the couch. She put her head in her hands briefly before picking her head back up. She took a deep brief and began furiously resuming her work. 

Alarmed, Carson retreated into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest. Something was very wrong. Worry crinkled his brow and he began to wring his hands nervously without realizing it.

He walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Patmore was barking orders to Daisy. He must have looked shocked because when Beryl glanced at him, she scooted Daisy out of the kitchen.

"Do you need something, Mr. Carson?"

"What is wrong with Mrs. Hughes?" He blurted out, folding his arms behind his back.

Mrs. Patmore took a deep breath before exhaling. “She’s….” she started and then stopped. “Mr. Carson, it’s really not my place to say.”

"She just yelled at me!" Agitated, Carson began fiddling with the bottom of his coat before trying to standing up straighter. "She never exhibits such terrible behavior!"

"She’s had some very bad news," Mrs. Patmore finished. "Only, you better let her tell you."

Carson felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Bad news? What kind of bad news? Was she sick? He could feel the edges of panic began to make their way through him and he had to take a deep steadying breath.

"Mrs. Patmore, Her Ladyship requests that you join us to discuss the dinner plans." Elsie had appeared at his elbow, her face stone cold and her voice monotone.

"Of course," Beryl answered nervously, glancing at them.

Carson looked over at Elsie but she was ignoring him. He opened his mouth to say something but she was gone.

She didn’t show up to his room that night for brandy.

***

Carson couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so terribly. He woke up once in the middle of the night, shaking. Unclear exactly why, he only remembered come morning that it had been another cancer dream.

Another.

Exhausted, he snapped at Jimmy that morning without knowing that Mrs. Hughes had snapped at poor Jimmy only 15 minutes before. He burned his hand ironing His Lordship’s newspaper and nearly forgot to check the silver on his morning rounds. 

He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice everyone staring at the two of them at breakfast. She slouched over, her head in her hand, picking at her eggs. He handed her the best piece of toast, as he did every morning, but she didn’t take it. She continued to ignore him and stare listlessly at her breakfast food.

Wordlessly, he stared at the toast in his hand for a couple moments, then at her, not entirely sure what to do.

"Mr. Carson?" Baxter asked gently. He blinked a few times and turned to her. She gave him a small smile and reached for the tray. She was helping him. He handed it to her before turning back to his own breakfast.

Her teacup sat untouched too. Carson reached over and poured it as she liked. He put in the two spoonfuls of sugar and set the spoon down before turning to his own.

Quiet clanking of silverware and chewing met his ears. He turned back to look at her and she was sitting up straighter now, staring strangely at the tea cup. “I’m not very hungry. Or thirsty,” she said, the monotone back in her voice.

"Mrs. Hughes, would you like to take the day off? To perhaps…"

"No," she snapped again, standing up abruptly and walking out. Everyone stopped and turned to look at Carson, equal parts startled and frightened.

Angrily, Carson stood up too and threw the napkin from his lap on the table, following her out of the room. She was about to shut the door to her office when Carson caught it and pushed it open.

"Would you care to explain your terrible behavior?" He growled. 

"It’s none of your business," she replied, the sassy tone back in her voice.

"This is my house! And if something is wrong I should know about it." He took a step forward. "Mrs. Patmore said you’ve gotten some bad news," his voice dropped somewhat.

Elsie took a step back and shook her head quickly. ”Mr. Carson I have chores to attend to. Now if you will excuse me.” The monotone voice was back and her face went blank again. She started for the door.

"It’s your health isn’t it?" He asked so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him. She spun around again to face him. His shoulders were slumped and he was looking down. The hot air had left him; he looked like a deflated balloon. The stern butler pose was gone. He was just Charles Carson now. 

"What?" Elsie asked, stunned. She took a step closer to him. He picked his head up slightly to look at her, despair written all over his face. In his eyes. 

"Is that what you…." Elsie tried. And then stopped. He thought she was sick?

"It’s not your health?" Pure relief crossed his features as he searched her face.

She hadn’t stopped to think. She hadn’t even considered that he had been thinking about her. Worrying about her. The emotion rose unbidden in her chest. She had to get out of there. She turned to leave, but the sob escaped her throat before she had gotten out of the room. 

It was too late. He’d heard it. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself, but it was no use. Tears poured down her cheeks and she wiped at them furiously to no avail. Accepting defeat, she turned back around, wringing her hands. ”I’m sorry,” she managed to squeak out. Her cheeks were beginning to flush red with embarrassment. 

Carson took a step forward and then paused, unclear about what to do. “Come sit down,” he walked her over to the couch. She sat down on the edge, hurriedly wiping at her eyes again. But the tears kept coming, unbidden, only upsetting her further. Carson handed her a small glass of brandy and then sat down, slightly anxious, on the couch beside her.

She took a sip of the drink and put it down on the table in front of her. “It’s my sister,” she stated. ”She…she passed away last weekend. I only just got the letter yesterday afternoon. I didn’t even know she was sick…” she trailed off again and turned her head away from Carson, the tears starting fresh again. ”I wasn’t there for her,” she choked out. “And she’s the only family I had left.”

"Nonsense," Carson interjected softly. "You have Anna, and Mrs. Patmore. Thomas and Jimmy and Daisy. And…" he paused when she turned to look up at him, her face tear stained. 

"They’re not my blood family, Mr. Carson" she replied. "My sister was…she supported me when I left Scotland. I didn’t visit her over London season because I was with the family this year and…"She bit her lip again and tried to take a deep breath.

"It’s not your fault," he interjected. "It could never be your fault."

"Then why do I feel so guilty," she replied miserably, her voice low and strained. "Mr. Carson, I’m so sorry. This is so terribly inappropriate, and I’ve made a total fool of myself."

"No you haven’t." He folded his hands and looked down into her lap. "I acted rather sternly. I should have been more…"

"You were worried about me." He glanced up at her. She was smiling slightly, the small gleam in her eye that he loved so much. It faded again quickly as she looked back down into her own lap. But at least it was there. It was still there.

"You can have the rest of the day off if you like?" He asked her. 

"No, I don’t need the day off," she replied hurriedly. "Work is all I have now. Please don’t take that from me, Mr. Carson." She sounded desperate. 

"I wouldn’t." He answered quietly. "I better….well I better get back to work Mrs. Hughes." 

Elsie wiped at her eyes again and then made a small frustrated sound. “Now, I look an utter mess.” She pulled at her dress sleeve and tried to wipe at her eyes.

Carson took out his handkerchief from his coat and handed it to her wordlessly. She smiled slightly in appreciation and took it from him, attempting to dab at her eyes.

"Let me see," he said. She handed it back to him, slowly, their hands grazing as he took it from her grasp. He gently took her face in one hand and began to meticulously wipe away the tear stains on her cheeks. 

Gentle. He was so gentle and precise. His dark eyes were concentrating, trying to make her face perfect again, without the blemishes of emotion. But she could see other things behind those eyes. Tenderness. It was rare, from him. It brought a warmth to her, and she could visibly feel herself calming in his touch.

He drew back slowly and removed his hand from her face. ”There. All better.” He smiled slightly. He handed the handkerchief back to her. ”In case you need it again.”

She suddenly grasped his hands tightly, looking down at their hands, the handkerchief trapped between them. It reminded her of that afternoon on the beach. Over 3 months ago. The last time they had so much as touched.

He rested his other hand over hers, unthinking. They sat there for a few minutes. Her wordless thank you picked up by him. His wordless “everything will be alright” picked up by her.

Even if everyone else around her was gone, she still had him.

Charles Carson.

And he always gave her his everything.


End file.
